Riders of the apocalypse
by thedarkaxe
Summary: After Zhaitan's defeat a new threat rises that endangers the world. While the pact bickers on what to do next, the world is shaken by unlikely alliances and is slowly falling into darkness. Now it falls upon a small band of heroes to put an end to it.


**A/n: Welcome everyone to my first Guild Wars fanfiction. If you came here through my other story: welcome back! If you stumbled upon this story by accident: welcome! Well anyway to clear up some things, this story takes place from the end of the personal story, through the living story and then followed by my own ideas of how the story should go. However I will not follow the established storyline exactly, so for the sake of simplicity let's say this story takes place in an alternate universe. Anyway that's enough rambling for now, enjoy the story!**

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**Riders of the apocalypse**

**Prologue**

A brown-furred Charr stood at the front of an airship. His gaze was locked on the flying monstrosity in the distance. His whole body seemed tense, but his violet eyes were calm and analysing. He fidgeted with his weapon belt, something he often did before battle. His golden armour was shining in the weak sunlight of Orr. The airship he was on neared the Elder Dragon, and it seemed to notice the armada of airships coming. The gigantic dragon let out an agonizing roar. The Charr commander heard the screams of his crew from behind.

'Do not falter, my friends! Zhaitan will fall today! We will end his reign of terror! The lands of Tyria have suffered enough!' The commander yelled. The reply came in the form of several battle cries. 'Now ready those cannons and take him down! We will fire at my mark!' The Charr continued to yell.

He heard the sound of cannons being loaded and of lasers charging. He gave a quick glance towards the left and right. His glance was greeted by Trahearne on the airship left of him. The Charr averted his gaze back towards the dragon. They were close enough now. The commander raised his hand and quickly lowered it 'FIRE!' he screamed.

The airships emptied their cannons and the lasers fired their charges, the battle had begun. The Elder Dragon was weakening at an incredible rate and the losses of the pact were still at a bare minimum. The Charr seemed content, everything was going according to plan – for now anyway -. His thoughts were quickly disturbed when he heard explosions. Quickly looking around he saw multiple airships crashing down upon the ruined lands of Orr. Scanning the area he found the source of the surprise attack: Tequatl had joined the fight to protect his master. The ground underneath them had turned into a flaming sea and the air was filled with the stench of burning flesh and explosives.

This wasn't going as planned. Had the distraction team failed to keep Tequatl in check?

'All troops focus fire on Tequatl!' The commanders voice boomed, filled with anger. The –now- duo dragons continued to wreak havoc amongst the pact troops and the amount of airships was decreasing at an incredibly fast rate. The Charr grabbed something hanging from his belt. It was time for plan B. He launched a flare, the signal for the ground and water forces to attack. Suddenly the sky was filled with all kinds of projectiles and explosion and almost instantly Tequatl fell down into the sea. The Charr commander growled in content, but his victory was short-lived as he felt the heat of an explosion from behind, he was thrown over the railing and fell towards the ground. He closed his eyes, convinced this would be the end of him. The ground however never came. He opened his eyes and saw he was magically kept floating by an elementalist.

'Thanks.' He growled as he jumped the last part down.

'No worries commander, we have your back.' The elementalist replied.

The Charr looked up and saw his own airship explode in the air. The first explosion had saved his life, but the battle had already cost too much. The Charr ignored the creeping feeling of despair as he led the remaining ground troops further towards the Elder Dragon. The horde of undead minions decreased in numbers and soon only the commander and a relatively small force survived. The commander looked up once more to see only one airship remaining: Trahearne's. The airship and Zhaitan were locked in a deadly battle. The airship was clearly battered, but so was the dragon. The battle carried on for what seemed like an eternity, but then the airship shot of one of Zhaitan's wings. The great dragon winced and spiralled down in uncontrolled fashion, however his flailing tail hit the last airship and it broke, crashing down into Arah. The onlookers were petrified and it took several moments before they realized what happened.

'Everyone, the dragon is weakened! Now is our chance to finish this!' The commander yelled as he stormed forward towards the crash site of Zhaitan. He was soon followed by the survivors and the small attack force battled its way through the remaining minions. The commander came to a sudden halt when he found Zhaitan. The dragon was almost dead and seemed to realize this. Slowly turning its head around to face the survivors.

'Foolish mortals' The dragon spoke with a deep, gruff voice. 'Was this worth all those losses, to kill one of us? You are too weak to prevent fate from happening, the others will crush your puny resistance, the world will be ours!'

The Charr stepped forward. 'You are wrong. We might not even survive, but at least we will have tried. Not one of the soldiers who gave their lives did so thinking it was for nothing!'

'Is that truly what you think?' The dragon laughed, a terrifying sound that echoed throughout the silence. 'Charr, how much blood that you spilled was of your friends? How many of you have killed friends in this battle? I gave them eternal life, but you, you all had to ruin my work.'

The commander remained silent. 'You can't win against us, we are the forces of nature. We are life and death, we are your fate.' Zhaitain continued its voice slowly fading.

The Charr roared in anger and stormed towards Zhaitan, his sword high in the sky. With all his might he brought the sword down. When it made contact with the head of the dragon, it pierced right through it and with one last whisper it died: 'I win.'

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A young Sylvari wandered through the Grove. Her skin was lemon coloured and gave of a slight glow in the dimmed light of the lowest level. Her red eyes seemed to take in the whole of the environment as if she was looking for something. In her hand she wielded a staff adorned with a white crystal on top that seemed to give of a slight white glow, although it was barely enough to notice. She wore a set of –what appeared to be- travelling clothes. Around her waist she carried two small daggers, although they were not her weapon of choice she needed some kind of weapon to defend herself if her enemies came too close. As she walked through the Grove her mind drifted off to things she had tried to ignore: her Wyld hunt. For a year now she managed to ignore the calling, but it became stronger with time. Now she just couldn't anymore. Her eyes teared up a little, she never had any intention to leave her home. She had to leave everything behind, the friends she made, her teachers and even most of her belongings. She had taken her problem to the Firstborn, but the only advice they offered was to fulfil her Wyld hunt and return afterwards. However she didn't expect to return. Her Wyld hunt was more like a suicide mission. She had seen the threat of the Elder Dragons and her Hunt had commanded her to put an end to this threat. Why had a young, useless girl like her received such a grand task? Why was it her who was send to her death? Why her? Why? The questions continued to echo through her head until she overheard a conversation.

'… fighting Zhaitan. I hope she'll return safely.' A green skinned Sylvari spoke

'Ofcourse she will, the Pact is big enough to fight off all the dragons and still remain strong.' Another Sylvari responded. 'And don't forget about Destiny's Edge. The dragons won't stand a chance!'

'I guess you're right.'

The two Sylvari continued their conversation, but she heard enough. Why hadn't she thought about it before? If she were to join the Pact she could fulfil her Wyld Hunt without marching towards her imminent demise. With renewed resolution she changed her direction towards the Lion's Arch asura gate.

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'I'm telling you, the XC-12 module should be connected to the personality matrix!' A male Asura yelled quite energetic.

'Are you sure? Last time I listened to you someone ended up in the Sharkmaw Caverns.' A female Asura replied.

'That was a one-time accident! How could I know the machine was calibrated incorrectly.'

The argument between the two Asura went on and they didn't seem to notice the third Asura tinkering with the prototype golem. With a buzzing sound the golem came to life.

'WELCOME-MASTER-WOULD-YOU-LIKE-TO-EAT?' The golem spoke in its mechanical voice.

The two Asura stopped arguing to face the now "working" golem.

'By the eternal alchemy! You did it again!' The female Asura said.

A smug grin appeared on the tinkering Asura's face. 'Ofcourse I did, I didn't earn the title of prodigy for no reason.'

'SELF-DESTRUCTION-PROTECOL-ACTIVATED' The golem continued. Before any of the Asura could react the golem blew up, only leaving a burn mark and some scrap metal behind.

'Well, I guess connecting the personality matrix and the mood regulator to the command core is a no.' The self-proclaimed prodigy said his smug grin wiped of his face. His two krewe members looked at him with a wide grin on their faces.

'Guess we'll have to try that again.' The golem-making Asura murmured before collecting the scrap metal. 'This time I'll succeed.'

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A young man strut down the crowded streets of Divinity's Reach. He moved about carefully to not bump into anyone. His green eyes were scanning the area, clearly he was looking for something. The robes he wore were coloured a dark grey and hang loosely around his body. His black hair was cut in a quite unusual style and seemed to resemble a ball. Around his waist he carried a complete arsenal of weapons including: an axe, a sceptre, a dagger and several other small knives. The way he walked was reminiscent of the nobles living in the city and he was surrounded by an air of superiority. The man continued his way through the crowd until he reached his goal: Salma district. The person he was waiting for still hadn't arrived. He leaned against the wall merging with the shadows. He watched the people walk by following their everyday routine. The man looked at it in distaste, most of these people were completely unaware of the world outside of the city. How could they live their lives trapped inside the walls? Did they really not care about the Centaurs who were drawing ever closer? Or the bandits that were closing in? His thoughts were interrupted when he felt a soft hand on his shoulder

'Hey.' The owner of the hand said.

The man turned around, a slight smile on his face. 'Hey.' He replied.

In front of him stood a girl around his age, her curvy brown hair reached past her shoulders and her green eyes had a playful twinkle in them. She wore similar clothes as the man, but hers were a bit more colourful.

'How have you been?' The girl asked.

'To be honest, kinda bad.' The man replied.

'Let me guess, those dreams again?'

The man nodded. 'They've been increasing in frequency. It is getting bothersome.'

'Then I think it's about time to head to Lion's arch. Meet me near the lighthouse.'

The man nodded and watched as the girl merged with the shadows, disappearing from the sight of untrained onlookers. The man smiled. Everything was going according to plan.

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**A/n: That's it for the prologue. The next chapter is also in the making so expect that sometime in the near future. Also feedback is always appreciated! I hope you enjoyed it!**


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